


I'll fix you

by ChibyL



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Drug Use, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, post 4x05
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-15
Updated: 2014-03-08
Packaged: 2018-01-12 12:18:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1186118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChibyL/pseuds/ChibyL
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey swallowed hard as he arrived to the White Swallow. Firecrotch worked there and that meant nothing good.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my beta Jasmine Persson

**I’ll fix you**

 

Mickey swallowed hard as he arrived to the White Swallow. Firecrotch worked there and that meant nothing good.

 

The moment he stepped inside someone squeezed his ass and Mickey had to count to one hundred to not punch the man in the face. Hell, he was almost seventy years old and that was too much disgusting even for him. Mickey smiled, thinking that maybe Ian would appreciate it.

 

The smile faded from his face when he spotted the redhead. He had a ridiculous silver shirt, all lights and shines and in the moment Ian turned in his directions Mickey saw a dark line around his eyes. Was that make up?

 

What the hell had happened to his Firecrotch?

 

He swallowed again, hoping that the pain he was feeling in his chest would disappear, and approached him. “Gallagher!” He yelled as to be heard over the high volume of music.

 

When the redhead looked at him, there was a brief moment where Mickey could tell that he looked sad. Or maybe even desperate. But it lasted less than a second, then Firecrotch smiled and opened his arms in a friendly way, “Hey, Mickey! How’re you doing, man? Hell, I've missed you so much!”

 

Mickey arched a brow. “Yeah, whatever. Can we talk for a moment, man?”

 

Ian shook the bottle he had in his hands and poured a light blue fluid into a glass, giving it to one of the fags over the counter.

 

“Of course! What do you want to drink? We have the best drinks you can dream of!”

 

Excited. It was that exact word Mickey would use to define him in that moment. And it was quite scary for Mickey, who knew how quiet Ian used to be. He was the one who always followed the rules, the polite guy who walked with his head down, the guy who wanted to join the army.

 

And now, there he was, fucked up with who knew what kind of shitty drug.

 

Mickey didn’t answer and Ian kept talking, “Come on, the first is on the house! You should really try this.” He said, giving him a glass filled with something Mickey didn’t even try to recognize.

 

Ian’s hand was so close, Mickey couldn't help but grab his arm. But he was stumped as to what to do next.  “We have to talk, man. Come with me.”

 

As Ian tried to draw his arm back unsuccessfully, a man approached. “Let him go,” he said and Mickey turned to him.

 

He was a guard, no doubt about it, judging by both what he was wearing and the height of _him._ He was almost for certainly stronger than Mickey, but Mickey didn’t care. So he chose to ignore him and strengthened the grip he had on Ian’s wrist.

 

“Hey, I’m talking to you!” the man said, slightly pushing Mickey. “Let him go and leave.”

 

“Yeah, and I’m trying to ignore you. Gallagher, come with me.”

 

When the man pushed Mickey again, Ian stepped out from behind the counter, standing between the two of them, his back to Mickey.

 

“It’s fine, Jake,” he said, “I can handle him. And I’ll be right back.” Mickey looked disgusted when Ian run a hand down the man’s abdomen, suddenly rubbing his body against the other man’s.

 

Mickey squeezed his arm as hard as he could, making his way out of the room, not bothered by the people he was rudely pushing away.

 

When the cold air hit them, Mickey let him go.

 

“What’s wrong, Mickey? Missed me?” Ian asked acting so innocent. He came closer to Mickey, running a hand through his hair and kissed him roughly.

 

Mickey drew away in an instant, disgusted by the scent of weed and alcohol. “What the hell, Firecrotch!”

 

“Mick, you’re hurting me,” Ian moaned tugging at the arm he was still holding, but Mickey refused to let go. At the same time, Ian started shivering, as if the cold had hit him right at that moment.

 

“I’m taking you home,” Mickey said with no hesitation, but when he tried to pull him along and make him walk, Ian started to scream.

 

“The fuck is wrong with you?” Mickey found himself asking.

 

“Let go. Just let go,” Ian almost begged, his eyes threatening with a wave of tears.

 

Mickey was so scared that he immediately released the hold he had on Ian’s arm. Ian’s shivering was worse now, his body completely shaken with chills, his lower lip trembling.  “What’s wrong, Gallagher?”

 

Ian stared at him, wrapping his arms over his chest and almost hugging himself. “What do you want from me?” he asked, his voice extremely low.

 

Mickey was even more concerned now. “I want you to stop acting like a crazy bitch.”

 

Ian was still staring at him with the same look in his eyes. Then all of a sudden, his legs gave out and he fell onto his knees, without even flinching when he hit the asphalt.

 

“Hey, you okay?” Mickey asked, kneeling in front of him. He didn’t touch him, afraid that Ian would react the way he had done before.

 

Ian was crying. “Why, Mickey? Why did you leave me?”

 

Mickey bit his lip. “You were the one who left,” he wanted to say, but he knew what Gallagher meant. The moment he had married that Russian bitch he had abandoned him. He chewed on his finger, completely speechless.

 

“Gall- Ian, we’ll figure out what to do.” He had never seen his Gallagher so broken before and he didn’t know if he could promise him that everything would have been okay.

 

Mickey took his jacket off and put it on Ian’s shoulders. It was even colder without it, but Ian was only wearing that shirt, so he was freezing at the moment. And besides, Mickey hated that shirt, he was glad to cover it, even if it meant that he himself was more exposed to the wind.

 

He ran a hand through Ian’s hair, finding it glued down with wax. He liked the strands, despite the fact that they weren’t so soft to the touch. But he couldn’t stand his make upped eyes, so he tried to cover them with red strands. 

 

Mickey used the sleeve of his shirt to clean Ian’s face from the black tracks that  covered his freckled cheeks.

 

“Come with me, Gallagher. We’ll fix it.” He held the redhead tighter, hiding his face in the crook of his neck, smelling the same scent of weed all over him. “We’ll fix everything.”

 

I’ll fix you.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mickey manages to take Ian home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my beta!  
> Sorry if it's a little different from what happened in the show, I wrote this before the last episode!

Mickey waited for Ian to calm down before forcing him up on his feet.

 

“I don’t want to go home,” Ian begged, adjusting Mickey’s coat on his shoulders as Mickey put an arm around him, steadying Ian as the two of them started walking.

 

“Where else?”

 

When the word “Monica,” escaped Ian’s lips, Mickey unconsciously squeezed his shoulder. “There’s no way you’re going back in there. A fucking old porn star with a gun? Really, dude?” and Ian shrugged.

 

Mickey thought that Ian had blacked out for a moment. They were slowly walking when the redhead stopped, stiff as if all his muscles were immobilized and Mickey instantly looked at him. But Ian’s eyes were unfocused and he was sweating.

 

“I’d better go back in. But thanks for your visit, Mick.” Ian spoke inexpressively as he gave him his coat and when Mickey didn’t take it, Ian just let it fall to the floor and turned with his back to Mickey.

 

“Ian, what the hell, wait!”

 

He yelled, but the redhead was already in, so he sighed and followed him. It took a moment for him to adjust to the flashing lights and the warmth in there and he lost Ian’s frame.

 

Then he saw his Gallagher rubbing his whole body on someone else, his hands touching everywhere and his face too close to the stranger. The man was saying something to Ian, but Mickey was too far away to hear. He could just imagine the disgustingly horny look on his face, as Ian’s hip brushed against the other man’s leg.

 

Mickey stared at them unable to act, as a strange mixture of angry and jealousy grew in his chest, going up to his throat. Someone bumped into him and Mickey realized that a couple of fags were dancing next to him. He took a step back and someone asked him if he wanted to go upstairs. Mickey couldn’t tell if he answered that question at all, he was too focused on Ian.

 

Ian who suddenly stopped dancing and fell to the floor.

 

Mickey pushed away everyone and reached for him. The man he was dancing with had just turned and he was already stalking someone else, without even caring to know what was wrong with the redhead.

 

As Mickey approached Ian there was someone else kneeling by his side, someone gently sliding his arms under Ian’s shoulders and knees and getting him off the floor, Ian’s head rolling with the movement. He followed the man who quickly went out, laid Ian on the floor and started checking on him.

 

Mickey kneeled in front of the man, on Ian’s side. “What’s wrong with him?” he asked showing all his concern as the man held Ian’s arm, taking his pulse.

 

“Do you know him?” the man asked and Mickey nodded, his eyes fixed on Ian’s flushed face. “Okay, I’m a doctor, so don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt him. He collapsed and he’s burning up. Call an ambulance, quick.”

 

Mickey recalled Lip’s words about the army looking for Ian. He knew enough about police to guess that if Ian was registered somewhere, like in a hospital, they would have easily found him. “No hospitals, man. I’ll take care of him.”

 

The man opened Ian’s eyes with his fingers, “Listen, his pupils are dilated, his temperature is high, his pulse is too fast. I’m pretty sure he’s dehydrated and his blood pressure is now too high. He really needs to go to the hospital.”

 

As the man explained all of Ian’s symptoms, Mickey contemplated over how bad the redhead was breathing and he sighed. “No hospitals. Just tell me what to do.”

 

“It’s unprofessional for me to let him go like this.”

 

“Come on, you’re in a gay club, kissing and fucking guys who are a lot younger than you and you still talk about being professional?”

 

The man looked at Mickey with a disgusted expression, “That’s private life-” he managed to say, before dropping the subject, still inspecting Ian’s unresponsive body.

 

“Bring me water,” he said with a hint of urge in his voice and Mickey could only nod and do what he had been told to.

 

When he came back, Ian was awake and no longer laying down. He was sitting on the floor, his arms shaking dangerously and his face pale. “I said I’m fi- fine, just let me go,” he told the man as Mickey approached them.

 

Mickey gave the man what he wanted and stood next to him.

 

Ian stared at him confused. “You’re still he- here.” He mumbled as the man forced him to drink the water. He drank the whole glass, realizing just how thirsty he was. Then he started to play with the glass, still in his hands, contemplating it, “I should go back and do my job.”

 

Mickey groaned and at the same time the man stopped Ian’s attempt to stand up. “You’re too weak, kid. You’re suppose to go to the hospital, so at least lay down for a while.”

 

“I’m cold, I want to go back in.”

 

Mickey took the coat that was still on the floor and as gently as a Milkovich could, placed it on Ian’s shoulders for the second time. “Take it easy, Gallagher,” he said as he rubbed Ian’s back.

 

“Look, your heart rate is still pretty fast, you’re hyperventilating. Is this the first time it happens?” the man asked, checking Ian’s pulse again.

 

Ian said yes, but Mickey could still read his face, he was lying. “It was just too hot in there,” the redhead said, trying to assure them that he was fine, but the doctor looked doubtful.

 

“I still think you should be checked at a hospital.”

 

“I said I’m fine. Who the fuck are you? My fucking dad?” Ian yelled and Mickey jumped. That wasn’t something Ian Gallagher would say, it was scary hearing words like that escape his lips.

 

The doctor sighed, “I can’t let you go alone.”

 

“I’ll take him,” Mickey quickly offered, running a hand through Ian’s hair. He was surprised when Ian didn’t argue with him, instead he leaned heavily into his touch.

 

“Your risk,” the man shrugged, “Let him rest and give him a lot of water.” He quickly warned Ian that he basically had tachycardia at the moment and that he could suffer fibrillation. But Ian was stubborn and Mickey knew it was a waste of air to try and convince him.

 

“Can you stand up?” the man asked.

 

Ian nodded, but Mickey had to pull him off the floor. He was still shivering and Mickey knew it couldn’t be just from the cold.

 

The man looked at them in concern, asking again if they were sure of their choice and Mickey found himself to be the polite one, simply nodding, while Ian told him to fuck off. Again.

 

Mickey tightened his grip on Ian’s shoulder, guiding him as they left the place.

 

“Don’t want to go home.”

 

And it was like a de ja vu to Mickey. “Not again, Ian. Either you’re going home or to the hospital. And we both know what will happen if you end up there, with the army still looking for you.”

 

Ian nodded with a sad look on his face and followed Mickey in silence.

 

They had almost reached their destination when Ian’s knees gave out and Mickey had to drag him home. It was as if he couldn’t move his legs at all and Mickey was afraid to ask him why. He preferred to ignore how scared Ian was acting and pretended that he was just tired.

 

As they arrived in front of the Gallagher’s house, Ian stopped, slightly shaking his head. “I can’t go there, Mick. I can’t.”

 

“Come on, you’re already here,” Mickey pushed him up the stairs and knocked on the door.

 

There was Carl on the door and he was looking at the two of them with his mouth half opened. “Ian?” he asked, half surprised and half excited.

 

“Where is Lip?” Mickey asked, helping Ian inside and leaning him on the couch. He guessed he was lucky that it was Carl there. If it was the little girl who usually stalked Mandy, it would have been difficult to deal with her.

 

“LIIIIIIIIP!” The kid yelled up the stairs and then he grabbed a beer from the kitchen and went back to where Mickey had managed to sit Ian. Since when did the Gallaghers allow a child to drink beer?

 

“What happened to him?” Carl asked sitting on an armchair, in front of his brother.

 

Mickey didn’t bother to answer him, neither did Ian who was still trying to focus on what was happening around him, only half conscious.

 

Lip reached them few seconds later. “Ian!?!”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ian is home and he needs help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Carl is here too. Because I really love him and I had to give him some space.
> 
> I'm not really proud of this chapter, but next one will be better. Let's just say, we needed this one, to explain what will happen later.
> 
> Thanks to my Beta!

“Ian?” Lip rushed to Mickey and kneeled in front of the couch, so that he was at the same height as Ian. His brother’s face was flushed and he was shivering pretty badly. “Hey, kid?”

 

“What’s wrong with him?” Carl’s small voice asked as he pointed to his brother with the bottle of beer he still had in his hand.

 

Lip sighed, turning to face him for a moment. “Nothing is wrong, Carl. Just go upstairs, we got him.” He was already back to focusing on Ian again when he added, “And leave that damn beer here.”

 

Mickey watched as Carl jumped off the armchair and placed the half empty bottle on the table in front of him. But he didn’t go anywhere. He just came closer to them, oddly playing with his hands, crumpling his fingers up, as if he was afraid to ask something.

 

“Ian, can you hear me?” Lip asked, noticing how Ian seemed to be disoriented.

 

“He said he can’t feel his legs,” Mickey explained. It didn’t bother him that Carl was staring at him terrified nor that Lip  gave him a disappointed look.He wasn’t going to play the big brother with Carl and preserve his innocence or some shit like that. Not now that his Gallagher was laying half unconscious in front of him, drugged up with God knew what kind of shit.

 

“What do you mean?” Carl asked, pulling Mickey’s shirt to get his attention, but he didn’t have a chance to answer because someone else’s voice was already filling the room.

 

“I’m fine,” Ian said with a rasped voice, “Just stop bitching, all of you.”

 

And when Lip opened his mouth in surprise, Mickey shrugged. Things where slowly getting worse, he knew that. He understood that every time Gallagher opened his fucking mouth, saying stupid things like that.

 

Ian was almost off the couch when his body gave out again. Mickey was next to him, but to be honest he wasn’t fast enough to do anything. Lip was the one who caught him before he could fall to the ground and gently guided Ian back down on the couch.

 

“He’s passed out,” Carl said the obvious. His voice was emotionless but even Mickey could tell he was scared.

 

“It’s fine, Carl.”

 

Mickey swore that if Lip told Carl that Ian was fine again, he would kill him. He was probably too rude himself, but there was no reason to tell him something that was so clearly false. Carl was a kid, not retarded and Ian was not fine. Definitely not.

 

“It’s the second time, Lip,” Mickey said, quickly explaining to him what had happened not so long ago.

He wasn’t a doctor and it was obvious that he wasn’t the kind of person who could be defined as caring. But he knew that something was very wrong with Ian.

 

“Hospital?”

 

“No, Carl. We can’t take him anywhere,” Lip sighed, running a hand down his face. Mickey noticed how stressed Lip looked and for a moment he considered the idea of taking  Gallagher away from that house. Lip already had a shitload of problems without his drugged brother, he wasn’t going to be very helpful to Ian at the moment. And that damn kid next to them was getting annoying.

 

“Lloyd.”

 

“The fuck do you want from that fucking geriatric case?” Mickey asked.

 

Carl crossed his arms over his chest. “He’s a doctor, he’ll know how to help him.” there was urgency in his voice, but Mickey also caught a hint of anger.

 

And the kid was right, the man was their best option at the moment. So Lip decided, without any hesitation, to call him.

 

By the time the man arrived, Carl was curled up on the armchair, fast asleep and Lip was pacing around. Ian was awake and Mickey was sitting on the floor, with his hand on Gallagher’s arm, trying to keep him calm as he was hyperventilating and mumbling nonsense.

 

It took an hour for Lishman to reach the Gallagher’s house but to his credit, he brought almost everything they would need, in his bag.

 

Mickey fought back the jealousy he felt when Lishman slipped Ian’s shirt off, inspecting his back and chest with his naughty hands.

 

“Did you take something, Ian?” Lishman asked, but Ian refused to answer.

 

“Yes, he did,” Lip answered for him, slightly lifting Ian’s right arm, exposing the little bruise on his elbow, a thin sign of what he had obviously done.

 

Mickey ran a hand over his face, trying to rub away the tiredness. He closed his eyes for a moment, but had to open them when he heard Ian screaming.

 

Mickey’s eyes popped open and he saw his Gallagher curled up, moaning loudly. Mickey couldn’t actually see his face, buried under his arms. All he could see was the way his body was shaking again and it made him feel nauseous.

 

Lishman had tried to call him, but Ian didn’t pay any attention. So Lip crouched next to him, gently moving his arms away and exposing his wet face. He was crying, damn it. “Ian what’s wrong?”

 

Mickey felt Carl’s cold hand on his arm and he let out a deep breath, realizing that he had been holding it. “What’s wrong with him?”

 

Mickey sighed and Lip answered for him. “We’re trying to find it out. Upstairs, Carl. Now.”

 

But all Carl did was hardening the grip he had on Mickey’s arm. “I want to know what’s wrong with him,” he said lower, so that only Mickey could hear him.

 

“Then shut the fuck up,” Mickey answered gently, giving him a quick look, before focusing on Ian again. He didn’t meant to be so gentle, but he was sort of encouraging the little Gallagher with his instruction. It was probably because he liked to piss Lip off, or maybe because he was glad that someone in that family actually cared about Ian. Either way he decided that he wanted Carl’s presence there, even if a child wasn’t suppose to see something like what was happening.

 

“Ian, you there?”

 

The redhead looked at Lip, silently pleading with him to help him and it took a moment to answer. “Hurts,” When he spoke his voice was extremely low, Mickey could barely hear what he was trying to say.

 

But he figured that Lip had understood, because he quickly asked, “What?”

 

“My legs. Everything. Dunno.”

 

“Looks like he’s been out of, whatever it is he’s taking, for too long.” That was Lishman’s diagnosis and Mickey didn’t know if it was good news or not. On one hand, that meant that Ian wasn’t taking anything at the moment.

 

“Not addicted,” Ian said through his clenched teeth.

 

“Not addicted, my ass!” Mickey yelled, shaking Ian from his shoulders “You’re scaring us, Ian! Quit it for a damn moment and let someone help you.” Someone. Not Mickey, because at the moment he was unable to do anything.

 

Lishman turned his back to them, searching for something in his bag and when he looked at them again there was a syringe in his hands. “This will help with the cramps,” He said, pushing it into Ian’s pale arm and forcing Mickey to divert his gaze.

 

A few minutes later Ian was sleeping again, with Carl sitting on the arm of the couch silently keeping an eye on him. Mickey had already decided that Carl was the Gallagher he liked most, after Ian of course.

 

He gave them a last look and went for the kitchen where Lip and the fucking vigaroid were talking. He took a seat right in front of the older man and crossed his arms over the table.

 

“I already knew he was taking something, but I thought it was just weed”, Lishman revealed.

 

No one commented on that. Mickey would have punched him, but they needed a doctor with no moral principles, so he just shut up and let him talk.

 

It looked like Ian was taking amphetamines, and too much of them. But he hadn’t had any for almost twenty four hours, which was why his body was rebelling like it was. Never doing things halfway, damn Gallagher!

 

“Just let him recover, it will be easier in a couple of weeks,” Lishman said, “I’ll come to check on him every day for now.” He gave Lip different kinds of pills, for God knew what. “Give him this if he has tachycardia, give him this if he can’t breathe, give him this if-”

 

What the fuck, he was already addicted, he didn’t need all that shit in his body!

 

“Where the fuck is your sister?” Mickey asked when Lishman went away. He had been asking himself that question since the first moment he had put a foot in the house.

 

“I don’t care.”

 

“You should, how are you suppose to take care of the four of them?” Mickey knew it wasn’t like it was at his house. There were three kids here and to be honest, Ian counted as one of them at the moment.

 

“I’m going to find a way, Mickey. Thanks for your precious and helpful comments”,  Lip sneered.

 

Mickey shrugged, “I’m not leaving him here with you.” Ian wasn’t suppose to stay alone, even just for few minutes, they had to be sure he didn’t take anything, which of course he would have, as soon as he was able to stand on his own.

 

“So stay here!” Lip offered as if he had no choice. “I need to check on Liam and I still don’t know where Debs is. So, yeah, I can’t take care of all of them!” Lip sighed, grabbing Carl’s beer from the table and taking a sip of it.

 

Mickey chewed on his finger. Ian was sleeping with Carl curled up next to him. He ran a hand through Ian’s hair.

 

“What now?”

 

And Lip’s face conveyed both his and Mickey’s answer to that question, “I don’t know”.


End file.
